


Uneasy Lies the Head

by TempestRising



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Abuse, Bullying, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Gen, Hurt Kageyama Tobio, Hurt/Comfort, Kageyama Tobio is Bad at Feelings, Protective Hinata Shouyou, Protective Karasuno Volleyball Club, Team Bonding, Team as Family, Whump, asking for help
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-15
Updated: 2021-02-15
Packaged: 2021-03-16 06:48:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,810
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29449554
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TempestRising/pseuds/TempestRising
Summary: Everyone would see what Kageyama had been suspecting for several days now: the spark was gone. His control was gone. The court was a mystery.The lines were no longer wavy. Now they zigzagged, a labyrinth so dense Kageyama couldn't begin to fathom a way out.Or: Kageyama's having a terrible week at practice, but that's probably because of the bullying -- the bullying that's turning violent.
Relationships: Kageyama Tobio & Everyone
Comments: 3
Kudos: 89





	Uneasy Lies the Head

_“Canst thou, O partial sleep, give thy repose  
To the wet sea-boy in an hour so rude,  
And in the calmest and most stillest night,  
With all appliances and means to boot,  
Deny it to a king? Then happy low, lie down!  
Uneasy lies the head that wears a crown.” _

**– William Shakespeare**

.***.

Sensei Takeda may not know much about volleyball, but he knew when a player was having a bad day. Kageyama was having a bad week.

At first it was tiny problems with tosses that were slightly too high or too low. The older players were able to compensate, but Hinata often exploded at the setter when the ball wasn't exactly where he needed it to be.

"Bakayama, you did it wrong again!"

Tsuki, who often sighed as he ended up in the middle of the boys' squabbles, murmured something about Hinata being able to hit the ball if he opened his eyes.

"But I shouldn't have to!" Hinata whined. "Isn't it Kageyama's job to just put the ball where I need it?"

If it was just Hinata, the practices could have moved on. Maybe they would finally convince Hinata to try to play with more finesse. But. By the next day, the tosses even to Daichi and Asahi were missing their mark. Even Kageyama's serves - nothing fancy, but almost always accurate - were getting caught on the net.

"Next time!" Daichi called as Kageyama cringed at a net ball again.

Kageyama bowed stiffly as he apologized, face red and stormy. When he snapped back up, Takeda noticed something...strange. A shake of the head. And a slight wobble in the step as he moved around the court. It was signs he was always on the look out for, having sat through the teacher's protocols on concussions a few times now. But none of the boys had been hit in the head today. Right?

Takeda called Shimizu over. He didn't know the extent of the data that she had recorded in her notebook, but he suspected that the older girl watched the practices at least as closely as he did. "Did Kageyama-kun take a blow to the head recently? Perhaps while tossing after practice?"

Shimizu didn't even glance at her notes. "No. But he is not the one who likes to stop the ball with his face."

It was mostly Hinata and Nishinoya who were under scrutiny for concussions, and the older receivers who sometimes dove for the ball. But Kageyama's position on the court was such that he usually stayed solidly upright.

Anyway, the wobble in the step was gone now. Perhaps Takeda had been imagining it all along.

A commotion on the court. A shout, and an apology. Takeda didn't have to look up to know that Kageyama had missed. Again.

.

On Monday it had started off as wavy lines. Usually when Kageyama served he could read the court like a grid, setting to the perfect spot in three dimensional space. The nature of the setter meant that he rarely even had an opportunity to look at where he wanted the ball to go. It was muscle memory, instinct, an impression of the court left over from days and months and years of practice.

He'd spent the weekend either surrounded by people at practice or in isolation. His mother was gone on a business trip; his father, just gone. Kageyama played video games and slept...a lot.

If he looked at it on a granular level, were their signs that something was wrong before he stepped foot on the court for Monday afternoon practice? Perhaps. But those lines, that perfect grid being off - that's what really scared the pants off of Kageyama.

He compensated. He guessed. He fumed at Hinata, his closest and most constant sparring partner. He got through Monday. Mostly.

By Tuesday, the wavy lines were everywhere.

Yamaguchi mentioned spending most of practice setting, and Kageyama picked a fight with Hinata over not being able to hit another setter's tosses ("I can too! Suga-san, come show Shittyama what we can do!") so he could join Yamaguchi on the other side of the court. Out of sight. Mostly out of mind.

He was aware, a few sets in, that he was being watched. "What?"

Yamaguchi opened his mouth. Closed it. Then said: "We have math class together."

At least this wouldn't be about Kageyama's less-than-perfect accuracy. Still, any distraction from volleyball was a distraction. "What of it?"

"The test last week -"

"I cannot help you study. I don't like math."

Yamaguchi snorted. "I've noticed. But...did something...weird happen? After the test?"

Kageyama missed the ball completely. It fell, flat, to the ground.

"It's just, I thought I saw Sazuki and Ogawa bothering you about something."

"You are mistaken."

Displaying uncommon courage in the fact of Kageyama's flat responses, Yamaguchi pressed forward. "They used to bother me, too. We went to the same middle school. Ogawa in particular -"

"Perhaps you should spend more time focusing on your role as a server and less time watching my conversations," Kageyama snapped. His fingers were white as he clung to the volleyball.

Yamaguchi bit his lip, but ended up nodding. They passed the rest of practice in silence.

.

On Wednesday, Coach Ukai intercepted Kageyama on the way to practice. "Talk to me," he said, trying for an open and welcoming tone. It wasn't the easiest thing for him to manage, usually, but right now Kageyama looked sick, which Ukai interpreted as sick with worry over his performance in practices. "Sometimes life makes its way onto the court. Are you having problems in class? You know you can ask one of your senpais to tutor you."

"Class is going as well as ever," Kageyama said in a flat tone. He kept his gaze over Ukai's shoulder, jaw clenched.

Ukai shrugged. Many boys who were attracted to sports didn't excel in classes, and he himself had never been much for books. "Home, then?" He tried to come up with follow-up questions about siblings or parental difficulties, but while he knew that Takeda and Tsuki had overbearing older siblings and Hinata and Yamaguchi had long commutes, he knew nothing about Kageyama's life outside the gym.

Usually he preferred it that way. He never believed in the touchy-feely ethos of teachers or coaches getting too close to the students they taught. Always better to be the removed, forceful play caller, someone who wouldn't let emotions get in the way of decisions like bringing in more talent. Or relieving the talent he already had.

Whatever was happening with Kageyama, something was wrong. And, unfortunately, if a spiker was having a bad day, or even a receiver, they could compensate, they could use it as something to practice around. But without a setter the pace of the game suffered. No one was able to get the practice reps in if the crucial part of the offense broke down.

Kageyama closed his eyes. Ukai had to look up to the boy, he was so tall. A deep breath in. "Am I off the team?"

Not much stunned Ukai. That did. "What? No, of course not!" Kageyama was a first-year, and more talented than hundreds of other players they had competed against. Whatever attack of nerves he was having now, they would work through, and Kageyama would be stronger for it. "But you do need rest. We will have Sugawara in on the rotation for today's practice. If we scrimmage, you can set for the other side."

That meant playing against Hinata, Daichi, Suga, and the rest, and setting for Ennoshita, Narita, Yamaguchi. They rarely scrimmaged with six-a-side, and when they did Kageyama always played with the starters even as the others swapped in and out.

The Kageyama of a week ago would see this as a challenge. New players to learn, new ways to beat Hinata and his third-year senpais. Now? Now it made him afraid. Daichi, Takeda, Asahi, even Hinata were all good enough players that they had been able to compensate for Kageyama's difficulties. But with the substitutes, Kageyama's deficiencies would be glaring. There would be no hiding. Everyone would see what Kageyama had been suspecting for several days now: the spark was gone. His control was gone. The court was a mystery.

The lines were no longer wavy. Now they zigzagged, a labyrinth so dense Kageyama couldn't begin to fathom a way out.

.

By Thursday morning, Kageyama's demotion to the sidelines had been replaced by more pertinent gossip: Sensei had lined up a practice match against Wakutani, planned for the upcoming weekend. They were in the fallow part of the season, the weeks before the run-ups to the tournament, and all the talk in the hallways between classes were about whether or not Takeda Sensei actually knew what he was doing.

"We will have to beat Wakutani to win the prefecture. Why give them more information about our plays - and our flaws?" Tanaka fumed, slamming his locker in the Class 2 hallway. He turned to Hinata and Yamaguchi, who both nodded along.

Tanaka sighed. These kids just wanted to play volleyball. They didn't understand the intricacies of politicking, not like Tanaka did. He tried to drive the point home: "They might even tell our real competition what we're doing over here!"

A slap on the back. Daichi and Suga were rarely seen in the Class 2 hallway, but they made a special exception this morning when the team was still buzzing about the news from morning practice. "You're getting paranoid in your old age, Tanaka-kun," Suga teased.

Tanaka felt the tips of his ears go red. "So you think this is a good idea?"

Daichi raised an eyebrow. He liked a lively debate, but even the first years knew that snapping at Suga in front of Daichi was done at your own peril. "I think we need to practice our own skills. We need to keep up our level of competition. Only then will we know our own weaknesses."

Tanaka hated when the third-years talked down to him. He swung at the easiest target. "I think we all know our biggest weakness. What is wrong with Kageyama-kun? Has the king lost his nerve?"

He directed this question to Hinata because, as had been the case all week, Kageyama was not there.

"How am I supposed to know what's wrong with him!" Hinata yelled. "I tried to ask him and he just yelled at me like he always does. Stupid-yama, he's probably doing this on purpose because he's just super lazy!"

But even Tsuki, hovering like a second shadow behind Yamaguchi, didn't buy that line of reasoning. Kageyama was aloof, dictorial, and self-centered. He could be short with his teammates, yelling even at the captains. But he was not lazy.

"Has anyone tried talking to him this week?" Suga asked.

"I already said I did! He yelled at me!"

"Is it possible," Daichi wondered, "that you yelled at him first?"

Hinata pouted. "Only because he keeps giving me bad tosses. And he's definitely doing it on purpose!"

Maybe it was time for someone other than easily wound up Hinata to talk to their setter. Daichi and Suga nodded to each other and peeled off towards the Class 3 wing, already deep in conversation. Tanaka went back to talking about Wakutani.

As they headed back to the first year classrooms, Yamaguchi almost mentioned his conversation (or non-conversation) to Tsuki and Hinata. He only had math with Kageyama, but Tsuki saw him in English and Hinata in both science and Japanese. Perhaps they had noticed what Yamaguchi had - Ogawa and Sazuki closing in on Kageyama, whispering about him behind his back. There was something between those three, and Yamaguchi didn't like the look in Ogawa's eye.

In middle school, Yamaguchi had learned how to avoid the bullies in the class. But in his middle school, it seemed like Kageyama had been one of those bullies. Maybe he didn't have the experience. Maybe a clash was coming.

But it was all just speculation. In the end, Yamaguchi kept his thoughts to himself.

That was his first mistake.

.

Kageyama kept his head down as he left volleyball practice. The team had developed rituals understood only by those involved: practice jumping drills on Monday, a pick-up badminton game on Tuesdays, Wednesday breaking off into small study groups and going to the homes of those who happened to live nearby. And on Thursdays, they tended to go down to the corner store and loiter until Coach bought them all dinner.

He didn't want to admit how much he liked these rituals. Like everyone else on the team, Kageyama pretended there was some spontaneity in these weekly gatherings, as if on Wednesdays he just happened to carry around his hardest textbooks. But everyone showed up, every week. The bonding off the court mattered as much as understanding each other on the court, and everyone from the first-years to Sensei approved of and appreciated these habits.

But usually Kageyama was in the center of things, even when he didn't want to be. Asahi would mention that he liked to spike higher. Tsuki would rib him about his blocking. And Kageyama would listen, scowl, adjust. He thought that was just how volleyball was.

Turned out, less people sought you out when you weren't on the starting lineup. Kageyama pulled on his coat as he listened to the receivers hound Suga with suggestions and requests. He looked over long enough to see Sugawara beaming.

And he slipped out the door.

Japan was in the throes of a cold snap that no one was prepared for. Most of Kageyama's heavier coats were packed away and he huddled into his volleyball warm-up jacket, feeling dizzy and a little sick as the wind whipped around his face. He yearned for a shower. And a hot meal. He'd thought he'd be able to stand being around the team long enough to eat dinner, but even the prospect of warm buns wasn't enough to keep him near his teammates. Not when he was such a failure.

Even outdoors, the world seemed not to want to stay up straight. Or perhaps it was Kageyama who was constantly on the verge of falling over, blinking the first flakes of snow out of his eyes. And he swore it was snow. He wasn't...of course he wasn't crying! Of course the team had replaced him with gentle, likeable Sugawara. Even if he wasn't as talented as Kageyama, he was earnest and friends with everyone and Kageyama was once again left behind by his own team. Weeks and months of practice and hard work meant nothing if he couldn't get Hinata a simple toss.

The worst part was that Kageyama couldn't even blame them. When he'd been rejected by his middle-school team, he had at least been left with the knowledge that he was talented, if not worthy of friendship. Now he didn't even have talent.

He blinked again. And again. No, it was not a mirage. Two figures dressed in school colors blocked his path. For a wild, wonderful second, Kageyama thought it was his teammates, come to tease him back into the fold. Then: a third blink.

"Ogawa," Kageyama croaked. "I thought we'd settled this."

The two boys loomed stark against the flat, steel gray clouds. Ogawa, a striker on the soccer team and even taller than Kageyama, and small beady-eyed Sazuki, fists like hams. Sazuki had been kicked out of every school club and was known only as a Ogawa's enforcer. Together, the two boys blocked Kageyama's path home.

So Kagayama planted his feet, hands balling into fists.

"We decided that your word's not good for much," Ogawa said, pulling his wild black hair back into a samurai bun. "At least not among your teammates. Honestly I thought I'd have to rip you away from those volleyball losers, but it looks like they cast you out all on their own."

Kageyama bit his tongue so hard he tasted blood.

"Unfortunately, you still are too much of a brown-noser. Even if no one in the school wants to be near the King, you could still convince a teacher or two."

"I have no intention of going to a teacher."

"See, that's what you said last week, but how can we be sure?" Ogawa nodded at Sazuki and the shorter boy started lumbering towards Kageyama. "So we figure we'll give you two options. Either drop out of our math class or we'll make sure that even if you decide to talk, no one will understand you."

Sazuki didn't pause. He walked up to Kageyama and punched him in the stomach.

Kageyama tried to dodge, but the blow was both hard and unexpected. He instinctively doubled over, low enough for Sazuki to punch him in the jaw.

He'd gotten into fights before, mostly with his teammates or neighborhood kids, but in those fights the physical blows were more for show. They danced around each other. They yelled. They definitely did not punch hard enough to to draw blood. To fall to the ground.

Kageyama managed to hook his leg around Sazuki's as he went to the ground, one of the few martial arts moves he remembered from his after school judo classes. When the shorter boy tumbled down the hill, Kageyama scrambled to his feet. The world spun and he felt more sick than ever, but fight or flight kicked in, and flight won.

Competing against Hinata was good for one thing, at least. It had made Kageyama fast. He dodged around Ogawa and sprinted towards home. If the other boy yelled anything at him, Kageyama couldn't hear it for the blood pounding in his ears.

He was washing his cuts in the frigid water of the bathroom sink before he realized that in his rush to get away from the attack, he'd dropped his bag of volleyball gear. He'd left it all behind.

.

Tanaka yawned as he got up to the gym. Somehow it had become his responsibility to get here early enough to let the kids in, and then he always ended up staying around for a few tosses from Kageyama, even when he knew he should be doing other things (like homework.) He lifted his hand in greeting when he saw the tips of Hinata's spiky hair.

Hinata scrambled to his feet. "Now Kageyama isn't even here for morning practice! It's like he doesn't even want to do volleyball anymore!"

And, true, Kageyama-kun was nowhere to be seen, but only with Hinata could Tanaka pretend to be the level-headed one. "Or maybe he didn't want to wake up at six in the morning for practice."

"Hey! I wake up even earlier! I am biking here when he is still asleep! And I get here on time!"

Tanaka winced at Hinata's volume. "Have you tried calling him?"

"His phone is off!"

"Maybe he is sick," Tanaka pointed out. "Sensei asked him about it before."

"I would text people if I was sick!"

Tanaka laughed. "You would come to practice anyway, and get your germs everywhere."

Maybe they wouldn't even go in the gym this morning. Without Kageyama there were few offensive plays they could run, and morning practice was technically discouraged by the school. There was breakfast being served in the cafeteria, and girls to talk to, and homework to do and naps to take. Tanaka was about to suggest something along those lines when two more jacketed volleyball players rounded the corner.

"Suga!" Hinata yelled. "Hooray! Come set for me! You are my new favorite setter, do you know that?"

Sugawara laughed but Daichi (by his elbow as always) frowned. "Where is Kageyama?"

"I think he quit volleyball."

Daichi raised an eyebrow and Suga gasped and Tanaka cut in: "We don't know, he's not answering his phone."

"And he didn't come to dinner last night," Suga said.

"Cuz he quit!" Hinata insisted. "I told you, I found his volleyball stuff and everything."

He could feel the gazes on him and Tanaka tried to head the third years off at the pass. "You did not tell us! Daichi, Suga, I promise this is the first time I've heard of this!"

Daichi waved his hand, the picture of a leader demanding silence. "Where did you find his things, Hinata?"

Hinata led them over to his bicycle, where several cleverly arranged packs were hanging off the back. A boxed lunch sat squeezed between the handlebars, and dangling close to the front wheel was a familiar drawstring bag. "They were just lying on the side of the road. Kind of wet, too, like they were out there all night."

It was only when Tanaka grabbed the bag himself that everything that had happened this week really sunk in. On Monday, Kageyama had begun the week the same as always: their reliable (perhaps over-relied-upon) setter. And then so quickly he had been replaced with Suga, benched, setting for the practice squad and even pulled, yesterday, from doing that. Flushed and pale, Kageyama had spent most of yesterday's practice scuffing his shoes on the side of the court. Not even Shimizu had dared approach him when he wore that face, the expression of the storm.

And afterwards he'd sprinted from practice before anyone could talk to him, but what would Tanaka had even said? Some crack about losing his touch, about the King being out of step with the rest of the court.

What if it wasn't just a bad week of practice? What if something was very, very wrong with their young setter?

Tanaka had only to glance at the third years to see they'd reached the same dreadful conclusions. "Has anyone spoken to Kageyama outside of practice?" Daichi asked.

"I told you, I -"

"Anyone who was not Hinata, provoking him?"

Tanaka spread his hands. Suga shrugged. Now that he thought about it, he had never seen Kageyama with anyone other than the volleyball team. For just about everyone, the sport was one part of their lives. Ennoshita also participated in broadcasting club, and Tsuki in science club, and a handful of the boys were dedicated to other sports in the off season, mostly baseball or football, intramurally. Narita had his girlfriend and Kinoshita his boyfriend and of course there was Suga and Daichi and whatever they were to each other. Even Tanaka had his old middle school group. Hinata hung with some of the tennis kids. But Kageyama...Kageyama...

Suga had his phone out, pressed to his ear. "He's not picking up."

"Sensei said he looked sick," Daichi murmured.

"Where does he live?" Tanaka asked. "There is still time before class, if he's not too far. I think we deserve some answers."

"Or," Daichi said in that careful, captain-y way he had assumed lately, "perhaps Kageyama-kun needs our help."

.

Kageyama usually set multiple alarms because he slept through the first one.

On Friday, he slept through his alarm, his regular alarm, his better-get-up-now-or-you'll-be-late alarm. He slept the fitful, restless sleep of the sick or the worried, filled with dreams of locked doors and roads that ended in brick walls. He dreamed of the volleyball court but it wasn't the comforting court he knew so well, this was the distorted lines and squiggles of the past week, his teammates, giant faces and grotesque sneers, whispering about him as he missed toss after toss.

When he woke, the house was empty and cold, the air stale. His mother was not back yet. She may be back this weekend. She had left voice messages, all coming into the house mid-day as if she wanted to talk to the machine.

He took one look at the mirror and closed his eyes. The bruise had was a faint smudge, but his cheek had swelled overnight and the scratch near his lip was puffy. The overall affect was less pitiable victim, more real-world monster.

As tempted as he was to stay in bed, there was still a small, hopeful part of him that hoped for redemption on the team. If he could get to practice and prove that he was okay, that he could do everything they needed, maybe he could play in the scrimmage this weekend. Then everyone would talk to him again instead of just talking about him.

He slipped on his shoes and ran a hand through his hair, reaching for his volleyball bag on the way out the door - and grabbing air.

Kageyama closed his eyes. Okay.

His empty fist clenched.

He was going to have a win this week. Whatever was happening on the volleyball court was...psychological, physiological, something odd and terrifying and outside of his control. But the problem with Sazuki and Ogawa? That was something he could fix.

As he left, he locked the door on the empty house.  
.

They never were able to track down Kageyama before class started, but Hinata promised to keep an eye out for the setter. ("Don't just yell at him when you see him," Suga cautioned. "He might be really sick."

Hinata rolled his eyes. "Then I'll yell at him for getting sick and for keeping it from us!")

By the time he got to his first period class, he'd also told Tsuki and Yamaguchi to look for Kageyama. "And tell him that I have his volleyball stuff! And that he shouldn't just leave it lying in the middle of the street!"

Tsuki rolled his eyes but Yamaguchi frowned. "You found his bag in the middle of the street?"

"Yes! Because Kageyama is super lazy or mad and he just drops his stuff wherever."

"That doesn't not sound plausible," Tsuki pointed out. "More likely that it was just an accident. Not everything Kageyama does it a pointed affront to you, Hinata."

"Or maybe he didn't drop it," Yamaguchi said. "Maybe something happened."

Tsuki shot him a glance and Yamaguchi looked at the floor. Tsuki was too perceptive, and had already asked him several times this week if something was wrong, and why was he staring at Kageyama, and where Ogawa and Sazuki bothering him again, and Yamaguchi had deflected every time. How could he say now that _yes, in fact, there might be something wrong, sorry for lying to you all week?_

Hinata didn't have the same degree of perceptiveness. "Yes! Maybe he was kidnapped and he through the volleyball bag on the ground as a clue!"

"When was the last time someone was kidnapped around here, Shoyo?"

"It happens all the time! Don't you watch television, Tsuki? Or maybe it was aliens! Just a beam coming down from space and...whoosh! And the bag is supposed to be a clue for that!"

"Fine," Tsuki seemed to be trying not to look too amused. "I will keep an eye out for Kageyama and also for flying saucers."

"Yes! And I will keep an eye out for kidnapping cars. Yamaguchi, you also look for kidnappers. Or spies!"

"Oh, are there spies now?"

Yamaguchi looked away from the conversation and tried to take a tally of the students in the first year hallway. Kageyama wasn't there. And neither were Ogawa or Sazuki.

.

Kageyama bowed his head as he finished his account. He didn't dare look up at the teacher, but he felt a hand on his shoulder. At first he thought he'd take his account straight to the principal, but somehow he'd ended up here, in Takeda-sensei's messy office. And then he told the teacher everything, starting with the test last week. How he'd had to go back to the math room for a jacket he'd forgotten and found Ogawa on the teacher's computer and Sazuki rifling through the test papers they'd just handed in. How he'd promised to keep quiet in exchange for not being beaten bloody on the spot, but even as he negotiated he'd looked at the computer.

"Do you have any proof?" Takeda asked. "Not that I don't believe you, Kageyama-kun!"

"Ogawa was sending the test answer sheets to himself, using the school email. I am not positive, but I do think the school has the authority to investigate the student's email accounts."

Takeda nodded, writing something down on the clipboard he'd pulled out when Kageyama first approached him. "That would be sufficient evidence. But why didn't you come to me last week?"

Kageyama shrugged, then thought better of it. "At first, I promised that I would not tell a teacher. I did not want the reputation of being...a snitch. A tattle-tell. And I thought perhaps it was not any of my business, that catching cheaters was the responsibility of the teacher, not the student."

It wasn't a good explanation, but it was all he was going to tell Takeda. How was he supposed to say that Ogawa and Sazuki had first tried to bribe, then threaten him into silence? That the two were known to be not just bullies but perhaps criminally violent? That they had a reputation among the boys in the first year class for cornering people, isolating them, then attacking?

"Okay," Takeda said, frowning. "But then why did you come to me today?"

Kageyama's shoulders bunched up around his neck.

"Is it the injuries on your face? Did they hurt you, Kageyama-kun?"

"It looks worse than it is."

"But it was these boys, correct? It was Ogawa and Sakuzi?"

In for a penny, Kageyama thought. He nodded. He'd already given up all his other secrets. And isn't that why he came to Takeda, anyway? He wanted to place this burden on someone else, and the narrow shoulders of Takeda-sensei seemed as good a place as anyway.

Infuriatingly, Takeda bent down in front of Kageyama, dropping his voice the way you talk to a spooked animal. "I am sorry to hear that, Kageyama, and I am sorry you got hurt. But I am glad you came to me. Has anyone taken a look at your injuries?"

Kageyama blinked rapidly. It didn't work. A tear dripped down his nose and onto the floor. He swallowed, then croaked: "No, sensei."

A full, gentle smile on the teacher. "When I became the advisor for the volleyball team, I started putting some First Aid things away in my office. Just in case. Would you like me to clean you up, Kageyama, or would you prefer a real nurse?"

In addition to offering bandages and salve, Takeda-sensei insisted he have several cups of tea and a bowl of oatmeal that he kept in packets around the room. Kageyama obediently accepted the warm food and drink, watching as Takeda typed up several emails and filled out some official-looking incident reports in triplicate. And, thirty quiet minutes later, Kageyama left for his second period class on his way to healing up.

He still didn't have his volleyball bag, and the problems on the court were a question mark, but Takeda had suggested that perhaps his worry over the situation with the bullies had been interfering with his practice, and Kageyama was inclined to agree. So, if it wasn't every problem taken care of, it was awfully close.

He rounded the corner to the first year corridor.

"See, Kageyama, I wish you hadn't done that."

Someone grabbed him under the armpits, and Kageyama was pulled into an empty closet.

.

Sazuki and Ogawa were driven by rage and a healthy dose of fear. They'd often kept the school in line through intimidation, threats, and always knowing more than other people. Ogawa had come up with stealing the test answers and selling them to the more desperate classmates, the ones in the academic clubs destined for good schools and eager for any edge.

They were athletic, large, and mean.

Kageyama on the other hand - wiry, fast, strong, indignant but already injured from their run-in the night before. Still, he thought his chances were pretty good, thought he was holding his own, until Sazuki and Ogawa wrestled him into a corner. They grabbed him around the throat. They squeezed.

.

Yamaguchi kept glancing down the hallway, and his constantly swiveling head meant that he wasn't exactly looking where he was going. He bumped into someone. Papers flying. Snickers rippling across the hallway.

He blushed all over his freckles. "Oh! Takeda-sensei! Apologies! Let me help you, okay?"

"Thank you, Yamaguchi. I was just bringing these down to the principal. Have you spoken to Kageyama-kun yet?"

"Kageyama? He's not in school today."

Takeda straightened his glasses, frowning as he shuffled the papers. "He should have made it in time to his last period class. How odd. Keep an eye on him today, eh? And tell him that I will see to it that everything is straightened out as soon as possible."

Yamaguchi nodded, trying to suppress his own frown as Takeda disappeared down the hallway. So Kageyama was in school. How had he avoided them all? Was he doing it on purpose? And why wouldn't he answer his phone? Glancing around for signs of more teachers, Yamaguchi slipped his own cell phone out of his pocket. Being caught with a phone in school meant detention, but he knew for a fact that Kageyama kept his phone on him at all times, constantly refreshing the latest volleyball news.

Not expecting much, Yamaguchi called Kageyama's phone.

Several seconds later, he heard the tinny sound of a phone ringing.

He didn't think, okay? He was just following the noise. He opened the door.

Right into the lair of his middle school bullies.

.

There's several perspectives on what happened next:

If you ask Ogawa and Sazuki, they'd say that they had Kageyama pinned ( _just to scare him! just to teach him a lesson!_ ) when the door burst open again and, fearing the intervention of a teacher, they sprang away from Kageyama and sprinted down the hallway. Self preservation. They'd gotten to choose both fight and flight.

If you asked Kageyama, he'd say that once Ogawa saw Yamaguchi standing, gaping, in the hallway, Ogawa decided to pull the smaller boy into the closest and slammed the door shut. With the sudden loss of one of his attackers, Kageyama was able to pry Sazuki's hands off of him, elbow him in the face, and scramble off the floor, getting a couple of good hits in on Ogawa before he could really lay into Yamaguchi.

And if you asked Yamaguchi, the most shell-shocked of the quartet, he'd tell you it was instinct-maybe instinct born out of those long, lonely days in middle school when no matter what he did he seemed to draw the attention of bullies. He opened the closet door, saw Kageyama being pinned by his old attackers, and kicked both bullies in the nuts.

(Hinata frowned at that part of the story. "Whaa-?! But, Yamaguchi, if they had him pinned how did you - I mean, if they weren't facing you? Here! Draw me a picture!")

The several versions of the story circulated the school for a couple of weeks after the incident. No matter which one you believed, they all ended the same way: the bullies were caught and expelled. Kageyama sported injuries that made him look both dangerous and pitiable, a characteristic many girls found ridiculously charming. And Yamaguchi walked around with his chest puffed out just a little bit more.

All in all, it was a good day.

.

That afternoon, the day before their practice match, several hours after news of Kageyama's showdown with the school bullies began to really begin circulating, the team met on the court. The third years kept an eye on the proceedings, nodding along as the second years prodded at Kageyama's bruises and reminded him that if he was in trouble he _should have told someone, damnit! And they could have helped!_

"I didn't want to be known as a snitch," Kageyama admitted.

"A snitch? Against Ogawa and Sazuki? That's not snitching, Kageyama-kun, it's a public service!"

Kageyama shrugged, a flush creeping up his neck as he was bombarded by well-meaning but intense advice on all sides. That's when Daichi stepped in, clapping the team to order. "I do think it is important for everyone to keep in mind: even if the problem you are having takes place off the court, what happens to you affects us all. And so your problems are the team's problems."

"I know, Captain," Kageyama said, eyes on the ground. "I'm sorry for letting my problems affect my performance."

Daichi sighed, looking at at Sugawara, who was better at this sort of thing.

"That's not what he meant, Kageyama-kun," Suga said, giving the younger boy a bright smile and a gentle pat on the back. "What Daichi means to say is that we are family, eh? And family is there for each other, always."

"Right. Exactly!" Daichi clapped everyone's attention back to him. "We should also remember that we have leadership for a reason. Kageyama-kun eventually went told Sensei that he was having a problem, but you have your sempais, your Captains. We have Coach and Sensei Takeda."

"We should really be clapping for Sensei," Nishanoya said, pumping his fist in the air. "Paperwork doesn't look super cool but I heard Ogawa and Sazuki were being suspended and put on probation, and that's basically because of him!"

The team turned as one to Sensei, who was standing with his clipboard just outside the locker room. He rubbed the back of his neck. "Oh! Yes, boys. Kageyama-kun, you really did the right thing coming to me. But I do wish you would have come to me a little earlier. We may have been able to avoid some of those injuries. I talked it over with the nurse and Coach Ukai, and we all agree that you probably should not be setting in tomorrow's practice match."

Kageyama's shoulders slumped further, if that was possible. 

Suga saw. Suga still had a hand on his back. And Suga murmured into his ear, "It's alright, Kageyama. We're a family! I will be there for the team tomorrow. And you will come back even stronger."

"But you can lead our warm-up drills!" Coach said. Coach Ukai waited until the rest of the team had poured onto the court, catching Kageyama's arm (gently! Aiming for a place not covered in bruises!). "Honestly, I was glad to hear about this whole test business. Trouble like that really can leak into your performance on the court. I suspect you'll find a lot of the problems we were seeing this last week disappear in today's practice. But take it easy anyway, okay? And let us know if you get tired or if anything hurts. You look like the walking wounded, kid. The nurse actually wanted to ban you from practice, but I knew you'd just end up here after hours anyway. This way at least we can keep an eye on you."

Kageyama didn't deny it. Bans had never worked on him in the past, and despite all his problems on the court this past week, volleyball remained the safest, most stable part of his life. "Thank you, Coach." Kageyama bowed, and bowed lower towards the baffled teacher with the clipboard. "And thank you again, Sensei Takeda."

Sensei's blush leaked up to his ears. "Oh! I didn't do much, really. It's part of my job to report abuse."

Kageyama straightened, raising an eyebrow. "Really?"

"Of course!" Takeda laughed, awkwardly. "You sound so surprised!"

Kageyama shrugged. "No one has ever reported such things before."

Before Takeda could do much more than blink in surprise, before Coach Ukai could open his mouth, Kageyama was already back on the court he was used to ruling over, taking his spot near the net to a small wave of applause.

.

Yamaguchi, closest to the basket of balls, tossed one to Kageyama.

He barely caught it. The court refused to straighten out. The lines, his grid, the way that he understood space and his teammates and the ball, the way he knew how to precisely get the ball every single time, his axis, his perception. It was gone. 

Dread crept into Kageyama's bones, settling in his chest like a weight. Everything had been so wrong this week, but then today it had all come back together. Hinata had brought him his volleyball bag. Ogawa and Sazuki were gone. His bruises were new but would heal and wouldn't come back. 

But the volleyball court still didn't make sense. The place he was so used to ruling, the court he knew better than he knew his own self. A mystery. Worse --- someplace that was no longer safe. 

Kageyama stretched next to his teammates, letting himself wince visibly as his injuries were pulled, letting Coach Ukai see and pull him out of practice early. 

The Captains said they were a family. But once it became clear that Kageyama's problems on the court would persist, how long would it take for that family to forget about him?


End file.
